Dark Incarnate
by Songbird of the End
Summary: Under revision. Please be patient.
1. Prologue

Teral: Yes! Finally! You're uploading my story!

Yeah, about that...

Teral: What?

...-ahem-...

**Warning!!**

**The following story has a lot of blood and gore! It's level of said stuff is at least on par with Yu Yu Hakusho. If you cannot handle such amounts, it is suggested you stop reading now!**

Teral: Why the hell'd you tell them!?

Laret: albino chocobo doesn't own Jak and Daxter, but does own Teral...which sounds very wrong.

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They're looking at me again. I don't need to open my eyes to know that. Which is good, since the computer would pick up that movement and record it. That's the last thing I want.

But I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. I'd tell you my name if I had one. I've been floating in this tube for as long as I can remember. No, that's not true. I remember things I've never seen, but that's not right either. I used to be called Maia, and my brother was the sage of dark eco. But I'm not really Maia; I just have all her memories and basic shape, if you don't count the tail, wings and claws.

Maia and her brother fell into dark eco long ago. Though that means instant death, it seems her conscious somewhat survived and has been drifting in it ever since. And Errol came across it when the Baron discovered the silos. I'm basically the stabilized dark eco that she became. I've heard him say that I'm his pet project, in case the Dark Warrior program failed. From the way he threatens his scientists, I'd guess that the Baron doesn't know about me. As if I'm going to listen to whatever he says like some mindless killing machine. I guess he made a mistake and gave me a rebellious teenager's personality. That's why I've been floating here completely still: it's the only way I can rebel against him right now.

I haven't heard anything about the Dark Warrior program; even if they do talk about it, they don't do it within earshot of me. Which is indeed something, since my hearing is much better than any human's. I have periodically heard a boy screaming in pain, and I can only guess that he is part of this as well. There were some other people's screams, but they have long since faded away.

However, there is one thing bothering me. You can't recreate life with only a few strands of Dark Eco soaked DNA no matter how technologically advanced you are. You'd need to use another living body to accept the DNA and place it higher than the body's own genetic code in its pecking order. But, it would probably have to be done slowly so as not to overwhelm the host or damage the body. If that is the case, I admit I'm mildly curious as to who they used. They probably hadn't done it of their own free will, since my guess is that the procedure would be extremely painful or something along those lines. Whatever they did must've made the host lose her memories; I only remember Maia's memories. I'm fairly certain the host was a girl, since my figure is definitely feminine.

I've been planning my escape carefully. Right now I'm in some sort of sack, a leather-like eggshell. I know it's there, I've felt it brush me several times. When I'm strong enough, I'll break through the sack, kill any scientists that are in the room(and Errol if I'm lucky), then proceed as quietly as I can out of the palace, killing any guards that see me. I'll create a small energy field of dark eco that'll short out any surveillance cameras that are close enough. I get a thrill wondering how Errol will explain all the dead guards. If I come across the boy, I'll take him with me, but that doesn't seem very likely. I've heard footsteps echo almost infinitely through corridors, so it must be a pretty big place. Not that I care. If I get lost, I'll just end up killing more guards on my way out.

All I have to do now is be perfectly still and bide my time till I feel strong enough. Keeping still won't be a problem; I've never moved, and you can't miss what you never had. I've heard Errol call me the 'Demonic Angel', since he believes I will be their saving grace. But in order to be an angel, you have to be born from the light, right? I was born from the darkness, so I think 'Angelic Demon' would better suit me. It doesn't really matter, though. Time is on my side, and by the time these bastards realize it, it'll be far too late.

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Wahhhhhh, I wrote curse words!!

Teral: Oh shut it. This is my story and you're going to have to fairly represent me with all of my language.

(sniff)This is my first first-person-viewed fic. Please don't be too harsh.

Laret: Please read and review!


	2. Chapter 1

Anywho, this is the dark fic. Welcome to the darkest recesses of my mind.

Teral: Where I like to hang out, so you're on my turf now.

And I tried to make it as apparent as I could that she was walking on all fours. So, yeah, now you know.

Laret: albino chocobo does not own anything, save Teral.

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It's time. Not caring for subtlety since no one is in the room, I start flexing my muscles, preparing to burst out. I snap all my limbs away from me, and I feel them come into contact with the sac.

And I feel it stretch. Damn. It recoils back into its previous position, pushing me back into a ball. I almost considered giving up. But no matter what I would've decided, I can't, giving up is no longer an option.

I desperately try again, this time with my claws facing outwards. They successfully cut through the sac, and I flatten my self out so I'm floating parallel to the ground. I stretch my legs out and feel them hit the back of the container. Using my arms as paddles, I push myself towards the back, folding my legs under me. I snap them straight, cross my arms over my head, and go sailing through the glass. By the time I remembered about gravity, it was too late.

After landing sprawled out on the floor on my stomach, I slowly picked myself up so I'm standing on all fours. I opened my eyes for a split second, but shut them. I don't remember the lights being that bright. I lower my head closer to the ground and sneak a peek. It wasn't as dark as I'd like, but it'll have to do.

Jet black waist length hair fell, slightly obscuring my vision. I remember it being blonde and nearly as long as Maia was tall. I experimentally stretched my wings; they were still a bit damp. Seems like I won't be flying any time soon.

I slowly lifted my line of sight and looked around the room. It was exactly how I'd pictured it. The container was back against the wall with a computer to one side. On the counters that were along the other three sides of the room were various test tubes, beakers, and clip boards. The computer probably wasn't hooked up to anything outside the room, but I had already vowed to destroy the room.

After I had effectively reduced the computer to slightly electrocuted pieces of shrapnel littering the floor, I hopped onto one of the counters. And blinked. Twice. Why can't I read these notes? I know Maia could read, and the language hasn't changed much. So why the fuck can't I read this?!

I pick up the papers and the ones on the other counters, flicking vials of who knows what onto the floor with my tail. Holding them in both hands, I lop my way over to the wrecked base of what was once the computer and throw them in. It was still sparking, and flames leapt up on the papers. I watched them dance about a bit before they fell and eventually died altogether.

Let's see, what else was I gonna do in this room? Break out—check. Destroy everything—check. Kill whoever's in the room—well, no one was inside, so check. Guess all that's left is to leave.

I make my way over to the door, being careful so as not to step in any spilled chemicals. When I reach the door, it didn't open as I had expected it to. Guess they're not all idiots. I glanced over at some number pad beside the door. And they've locked it. I'll just have to rip down the door.

I was about to reach up to grab the damn thing when I remembered I forgot something. I closed my eyes and concentrated, calling upon and building up my energy. The familiar sensation of Dark Eco crept its way along my body, filling it with power. Violet lightening skittered across my skin. Some shot off and broke some beakers I had forgotten. Now I'm ready.

Both hands shoot forward and deathly sharp claws cut through the first layer. I clench my hands and rip off a large chunk of metal. While my left throws it somewhere behind me, my right lets go and grabs the second layer. My left joins its twin in the destruction and rips off the rest of the door. I jump through the hole and almost immediately a small explosion is heard. One less security camera in the world.

After quickly righting myself, I bounded forward and around the corner. Straight into an unsuspecting Krimzon Guard. Well, almost unsuspecting, since it's a given he heard the explosion. He looked like he was going to stumble backwards and try to sneak away, but brought his gun up and pointed it straight at me. I pushed hard off the ground with my hind legs and tackled him to the ground. Fear was radiating off of him almost as much as his heat was.

Wait, why wasn't I generating my own heat? The question made me start, but I tried to hide it. First thing's first: kill the guard. I put my hand over his face none too gently, allowing my claws to dig into his skull. He probably would've screamed, had I given him enough time. I ripped his head straight off, letting it fly and hit the wall. It rolled back in front of me, the face side facing me. My first kill. I really should relish this moment.

I stood there a moment and caught my breath. Why the fuck am I so tired? I'm not supposed to be this tired yet.

Damned faulty body's gonna get me killed. I lift my head to look at the fluorescent lights, glaring at them as if they're the source of all my problems. Because they are. Well, one source. A being of darkness is not supposed to be running around under glaringly bright lights. Especially if it's their first time being in the light, or moving at all for that matter!

I think I'll stop that thought there and take a closer look at the guard lying motionless before me. Its face mask is dented, probably from when I squished his skull as one would squish a bug, but it still shows a reflection. Well, it will as soon as I wipe the blood off of it.

I reach forward and start wiping the caked blood off as gingerly as I can, which results in a distorted image thanks to all the scratches. Who would have thought claws weren't always useful? I pull myself closer and squint at the image, trying to make anything out. All I could see was a black bulk, an infinite dark where you couldn't tell where one body part ended and another began, and two white dots with a slightly brighter oval area around them. I think I just found my eyes.

My hand darts out and crushes the faceplate, displeased with the meager image. New blood seeps from beneath it, joining the pool on the floor. I withdraw my hand, staring with mild interest at my claws. I've never really gotten a good look at them. Made of what looked like Dark Eco crystals, they looked like someone had made small caps that came to a point to fit my fingers. They had a ridge that vaguely reminded me of bullets.

Which brought me to the fact that more Krimzon Guard had showed up. Damn, when did they get there? I jump at the first one; my hand slips smoothly through an unarmored part and skewers his stomach. I snap my wing open to knock the other into the wall when I end up cutting through his armor, scratching his chest. Razor wings; didn't know I had those. I can feel myself smiling for the first time. Not a happy smile, an I'm-About-To-Kill-You-And-Loving-Every-Moment smile. I whip my tail and sink its end into the guard's forehead. I pull it out and notice it has the same end as my claws, just elongated.

I walk away from the carnage and pad silently down the hall on all fours. I keep walking and fighting for another hour or so, and feel exhausted. The bright light or the guards will be the death of me if I don't—

Damp. Why is it damp? I lift my head and sniff the air. Rain. The distinct smell of rain is hovering in the air. But it can't rain inside a building, so there must be a way out!

I excitedly hound the smell to its origins: a window. Who in their right mind would leave a window open? It doesn't really matter, though, except that there aren't any guards around. Score! I'm smiling again.

I crouch down below the window, and my tail involuntarily flicking around. I push myself off the ground with all of the strength I can muster, grab onto the pipe above the window, and swing myself outside. I snap my wings open and glide to the nearest rooftop, my wings threatening to give out any second. Only one thought runs through my mind, drowning all the others out.

I'm free. Free to go where I want, do what I want, to plot against the Baron. Free to kill whomever I wish. Still smiling, I slink off into the shadows of the night, the storm hiding my form from prying eyes.

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Why do you have to curse so much? I don't like typing them out!

Teral: Why the hell'd you make me say "score"!?

Laret: Please read and review!


	3. Chapter 2

Anyone asks, this is supposed to be chapter 2.

Teral: And ac works on this when extremely pissed off.

Laret: albino chocobo owns Teral, nothing more

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I wake up and slowly scan the area. I'm still where I fell asleep the night before: on the supporting beams of a walkway. My guess is that this is the water slums; rickety houses on stilts, wooden walkways, murky water—yep, this is it.

I don't really know why I came here. Maia couldn't swim, and I don't want to know if I can that badly. Yet I came to the only place that the sidewalks have to be supported above the vile liquid. What. The. Hell.

The sun is just starting to rise, giving the sky a combination of sickly yellow and pink appearance. There's a small mist just above the water, and no one's up yet. I was slightly surprised to see those flying machines, but I'm over that now. Maia was dead for a good long time, and in a way still is.

I pick myself up, and my body groans in protest. I need to sleep a little more, but I'm not going to risk being in the sun this soon. That means I have to find an at least somewhat abandoned house, kick out whoever's in there, and climb into a trunk or something and sleep. If I'm lucky, though, I won't have to do that since it'll call the attention of the KG, and I really don't feel like fighting them all day.

I climb up to the walkway and peek over the edge just to make sure it's clear. After giving a great heave on my arms' part, I'm soon stalking down the makeshift bridge. I silently pad right up to the side of a "house" and press my ear to its wall. The sound of steady breathing—damnit, this one's taken.

For the next hour or so I repeated this cycle; walk up, listen, walk away. Who would've thought so many of these huts are inhabited? The sun's right about to send its banishing light, I'm almost out of time.

I press my ear to the wall of another hut, expecting to hear the same signs of life inside. All I can hear is this low humming sound. There's no one sleeping in here!

I quickly trot my way around the hut, looking for the door—no, make that doorway. There's no fuckin door! How the hell is this supposed to help?! I sigh irritably. Beggars can't be choosers, it'll have to do.

Ears straining for any sounds other than that constant hum, I carefully peek into the hut. There are candles on the floor, on the wall—pretty much everyplace you could stick one. They made a small walkway straight into where the back of the house would've been. Instead, there's some giant, bug eyed statue with a trumpet for a mouth. Wow, artists really have fallen.

There's something itching in the back of my mind. Some long forgotten memory, probably of Maia's, trying to resurface. Pushing it aside, I slowly saunter into the room. It doesn't seem anyone's here, except for that huge—

_"Greetings, Dark One."_

I whip my head back to the doorway, fangs bared and muscles tensing, ready to rip apart whatever snuck up on me, only to find it completely empty. I desperately look around the place, searching for the owner of the booming voice. There's nothing else here except for—

_"I am known as the Oracle, an ancient piece of Precursor technology."_

Oh, that's right. It's called an Oracle. And here I thought none survived to the present day. At least now I know what that memory Maia had was.

_"I have a proposition for you. You, who is not blinded by rage, wish to walk freely among the Havenites and plot against the Baron."_

As observant as ever.

_"If you kill my enemies, the Hora Quan, and bring back their skull gems, I will grant your wish."_

Kill stuff, be able to kill more stuff—sounds good to me. But there's one tiny problem: I can't kill anything with how weak I currently am.

So I open my mouth, exhale and start forming the words, but all that comes out is a gurgling noise. What the hell happened to my voice? Since Oracles don't speak gurgle, I decide to shut my mouth and glower at it instead.

_"However, you don't seem to be at full power at the moment. Allow me to give you a place to rest."_

Almost during it said that, three odd looking boards slid underneath the statue, revealing a small crawl space. It looked pitch black inside, despite the sun's warnings of light from outside.

_"You may rest here until nightfall, when you are able to move about freely. The closest concentration of the Hora Quan is just down the path, in the area known as Dead Town. Head there to begin your hunt."_

Pushing aside my own curiosity for how it knew so much, I walked into the crawlspace. The Oracle then replaced the boards, blocking out any light that would seep through the cracks, while I felt sleep overtake me. The last thing I heard was the Oracle's booming voice:

_"Sleep well, Dark One."_

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It took awhile to figure out what to make the Oracle say.

Teral: No, people, this won't be an OCxJak fic, you pervs.

Jak won't even be in here for a _long_ time.

Teral: What's up with the no name thing?

Laret: Please read and review!

Teral: Answer me damnit!


	4. Author's Notice

Hey everyone! Or... whoever really cares enough to have read the story.

Listen. Due to the utter crappiness of the first few chapters, this story'll be shut down for a while. Since this is also an exercise in first person point of view (which hates me so, **so** much), there's no telling when it'll be ready for reading again.

What? No, I'm not going to abandon it. Whatever made you think that?

Anyway, I'm gonna start rewriting the chapters, and they'll hopefully be better than they are now. (Seriously, how can you guys _read_ this crap?) There will be a minor shift regarding the plot, but it's just for better storytelling. Really.

Hey c'mon, don't worry! I'm a little bit older, a little bit wiser, and my ego is a smidge bigger than what it was. I have a better idea of characterization and I don't completely suck at making original characters.

As soon as I get the first... what, two? three? Dear Precursors, does this really make **_four!?_** Well, once the first four or so chapters are done, I'll replace them along with this note. So please, if you have something to say regarding this notice, tell me via PM and don't leave a review. (Wow, never thought I'd say that. It kinda scares me.)

I won't make any promises, but there's a good chance they'll be done before November.

So... have a nice autumn!


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